


love is a losing game

by gayhandshake



Series: when forever was us [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Coda, Episode Related, First Heartbreak, Gen, Self-Harm, Sibling Love, on par with what was shown on the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 17:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11718765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayhandshake/pseuds/gayhandshake
Summary: There’s nothing of Magnus in Alec’s room at the Institute. There’s barely any Alec in Alec’s room. There’s a musty, stale smell that he hadn’t noticed when he’d stumbled in earlier, looking for a place to hide out before the whole Institute became privy to Alec Lightwood finally fucking losing it.---Alec's had his heart broken for the first time, and there isn't anything Izzy can do about it.





	love is a losing game

There’s nothing of Magnus in Alec’s room at the Institute. There’s barely any _Alec_ in Alec’s room. There’s a musty, stale smell that he hadn’t noticed when he’d stumbled in earlier, looking for a place to hide out before the whole Institute became privy to Alec Lightwood finally fucking losing it. _He lasted longer than we thought he would_ , people would say pityingly, _but we knew it couldn’t last_ , before gleefully shooting him straight back to the top of the Idris gossip mill.

He thinks about opening the window, but he decides that would take too much effort. The smell works for him. The darkness works for him. The emptiness works him.

Alec can see into his half open closet from where he’s prone on the bed, and he thinks there are about three shirts hanging in there. There’s an extremely dead, brittle potted ivy on his nightstand. That works for him too. If he closes his eyes, he can picture his half full hamper back in Magnus’s closet, his other pair of boots tucked up against it. He viciously digs his fingers into his sternum when he starts to feel the tell-tale constriction beneath the bone and swallows the bubble of hurt in his throat until he’s effectively stuffed it down for another time. Alec feels dried out, like a fish caught on the beach at low tide, and he isn’t interested in finding out if he can produce any more tears tonight.

 _If I hadn’t lied, would I be here right now? If I told him about the sword right away, would he trust me to not stand in his way?_ he wonders. _Are we really on opposite sides of this war?_ a smaller voice questions. Alec pounds at his chest with the heel of palm until he’s sure it’ll bruise when the insidious, twisting tightness returns. No more _fucking_ crying.

Alec isn’t sure how long he stares at his ceiling, but when Izzy opens the door and the dim hall light forces him to blink, the drag of his eyelids over his eyes feels like sandpaper on flesh.

“Oh, Alec,” she says, flicking the light on in the room. “What happened?”

His hands fly to his eyes, “Fuck, Izzy, turn that off, please.” She complies, but crosses the room to turn on the bathroom light. Alec squints into the light after her and hears the tap turn on. When she comes back out, she’s got his bathroom cup of questionable cleanliness full of water. She hands it to him. Instead of taking it, he stares at her dubiously.

She purses her lips, but her eyes stay soft, “I rinsed it out with the handsoap. Angel knows how long it’s been since you used it. Drink it,” thrusting it towards him again. He accepts it this time, but doesn’t bother lifting his head when he drinks. Some dribbles out of the sides of his mouth, and he turns his head to haphazardly drag his cheek against the pillow to dry it off. It doesn’t really work. If possible, Izzy’s face collapses further. “Big brother,” is all she says before crawling into bed with him, curling up with her head on his shoulder. Her hair tickles his nose, but it’s soft and smells fruity, so he doesn’t do anything to get it out of his face.

The stale smell of the room _doesn’t_ work for him. The darkness doesn’t work for him. The emptiness doesn’t work for him. His dead fucking plant doesn’t work for him.

He doesn’t fight the lump working its way from his chest this time and is surprised by the volume of the sob he lets out, the force with which it shakes his body. He wants to be mad at Izzy for rehydrating him enough to invite back the tears, but he can’t find the feeling inside him. He hurts so much, he can barely remember feeling anything but the blackhole under his breastbone. He thinks if he tried to beat back the feeling this time, he would end up dragging his hands over the tender edges of a gaping wound.

He’s never felt anything like this before.

Izzy repositions them so that Alec’s face is pressed into her shoulder instead and runs her hands over his hair, his shaking shoulders. He buries himself as deeply as he can into her neck.

“It hurts,” he says, grateful that his voice is muffled in her shirt. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I know, I know,” she soothes in a hushed voice, her hands still petting, “I wish I could tell you there were specific steps you could take to ease your pain, hermano. I wish you never had to find out what this felt like. But all you can do is ride it out.” Alec lets out another embarrassing sob, and Izzy presses her lips to the top of his head. “Eventually,” voice infinitely soft, “it stops feeling so bad, I promise you.”

Alec doesn’t like that at all, but he knows it isn’t Izzy’s fault. He tells her, “I don’t want it to stop. I want to go home to my bed and my boyfriend and tell him about my terrible fucking day,” he takes a deep breath, feeling the shudders down to his bones, “I lost my best friend, Izzy,” he continues, voice cracking. “When I feel like shit, I only want to talk to Magnus, and that just isn’t an option anymore. I ruined it.”

He feels Izzy blow a gusty breath over the top of his head, and he pulls back abruptly when he realizes how that sounds, “Izzy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean -”

She cuts him off, shaking her head, “No, shh, Alec, it’s okay, I understand.” She has speckly black lines down her cheeks, her mascara running slightly. She cups his cheek and her face hardens into fierce determination. “You two love each other,” she nods sharply, “You are going to figure this out.”

Alec dips his head back into her shoulder and squeezes his eyes shut, “I just don’t know if that’s enough this time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Me: This fandom is full of ANGST DEMONS  
> Also me: I'm sad and I need to write a sad fic about it
> 
> I kind of started one from Magnus's POV, so that may or may not be posted this weekend.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
